


Walking the Wire

by Artemis7of9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Annabeth Chase is a Good Friend (Percy Jackson), But also, But theres no Harry Potter or the gang, Canon Compliant, F/F, Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Modern Era, Modern Hogwarts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, That make sense?, There's no little Potters running around either, but there is mention of him once or twice!, this is so gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29467284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis7of9/pseuds/Artemis7of9
Summary: Sandra Williams didn't ask for any of this. She grew up thinking she was just a normal witch, in normal old London, on her normal way to normal old Hogwarts with all her normal Witch and Wizard peers. She most certainly did not anticipate her mother telling her that her dad is, in fact, NOT a scumbag Muggle who knocked her up and left, but a Greek god.Aria Price likes control. She's known of her heritage her entire life, and when you live entertwined in not one but two magical worlds, life can be ... unpredictable, to say the least. Keeping control on small things is a necessity for remaining sane. This is why Aria Price despises Sandra Williams, who’s the most unpredictable person she’s ever met.{Created by myself, and a friend without an AO3 account. Updates will be inconsistent.}
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s), but its not endgame





	1. Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you're here from my other story, whats up? If this is your first time reading one of my works, I warn you, this will be long. I like slowburn, and my friend (Who created Aria, and is assisting with this work) and I have a lot of ideas. 
> 
> The chapters in this story will alternate between the perspectives of Sandra and Aria, so get ready for some frustration and conflicting opinions. 
> 
> Finally! The title is based off of the song 'Walking the Wire by Imagine Dragons'
> 
> ~
> 
> Warning(s): Mentions of death, Mild Foul Language/Cursing (She says 'hell' like twice)

Look, I didn't want to be a demigod. Like, at all. Ever. If you're reading this because you think you might be like me, my advice is this: close this tab right now and believe whatever lies your mom or dad told you, before you get yourself killed. Being like me is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, both sides of the chasm will get you killed in nasty, painful ways. If you're a normal happy-go-lucky kid reading this because you think it's fiction, great. By all means, keep reading. Just know that I envy you because you can sit there with your cozy little life, believing none of this is true. But if you see yourself on these pages? If you start to feel like magic isn't the only thing stirring inside you, waiting to be unleashed? Stop reading. Now. You might be one of us, and once you figure that out, it's only a matter of time before They do too, and for the love of Zeus, trust me; They will be coming for you, human and monster alike. 

But nevermind all that. If you’re here for all the right reasons, this doesn’t concern you. Let’s hope so, anyway. My story begins on no particular May 6th, in London, England born to one Marissa Williams, with no father listed on the birth certificate. From the day I was born, onward, I lived in a four bedroom flat with my mother, Aunt Ruby, and my cousin Caroline. Though there were four years between us, Caroline and I were always close, and treated each other like sisters (Especially when we squabbled - We got pretty damn creative). 

Throughout my childhood, I always remember having trouble focusing. It wasn’t anything big at first, and no one ever really took any mind to it (I was a child, after all.) but after a while people started to get sick of it. I was told to grow up, and that now that I was getting bigger, I would have to start learning that I couldn’t “just focus on the things I wanted to”. When I finally explained to my primary school teacher that I couldn’t even focus on that properly, she mentioned the possibility of my having ADHD for the first time. She recommended medications to my mother, who promptly refused. Then there came the trouble of learning to read. As soon as I spoke the words, “they’re just flying off the page”, I was being diagnosed with Dyslexia by my primary school guidance counselor. The teachers were useless though. Magic could fix broken bones and internal bleeding, but as soon as anything psychologically dampening occured, they turned to Muggle medicine, which my mother refused to let them give me. 

The first time I remember having a strange dream was when I was about seven years old. It wasn’t that special, really. It was four seconds long, tops. I was sitting at a huge bonfire with a moderately sized crowd, each wearing the same orange T-shirt. Next to me, was a girl about my age who I had never seen before. She had long, blonde hair and piercing grey eyes. We were both laughing loudly, and the entire group's energy was so happy and cheerful. I thought nothing of the dream, but then it happened again. This time, I was sitting in front of a mirror with a blanket draped over my back. I could see the blonde girl from before, reflected in the mirror and standing behind me, along with a new girl who was holding a pair of scissors. She had slightly darker skin, and brown hair. But the other two girls weren’t what surprised me most. What surprised me the most, was what else I saw staring back at me in the mirror. It was me. I don’t know how I knew, especially since I was so much older, but it was definitely me. My suspicions were confirmed when the blonde asked, “You still sure you want to do this, Sandra?” She surprised me by revealing her strong, American accent.

“Positive.” I responded. Then the dream was over.

When I mentioned these dreams to Caroline, she told me to write the dreams down. “It’s called a dream journal.” she said, “You can look over them whenever you like, and you might even possibly find some meaning in them.” When I told her it was stupid, she elbowed me and pulled out an empty notebook from her shelf, “Here, just try it? I can write, you just talk.” and so I talked. I described everything in the dreams to her. She wrote them down on two separate pages, and marked them with the dates I had them. A week later, it happened again. This one was also only a few seconds, and made less sense than the first two. I watched from the sidelines as a hispanic boy with grease stains all over his face waved a wii remote around on a ship deck. We wrote it down again. The dreams started happening weekly, and even when Caroline went off to Hogwarts I continued writing them down. It was less of an interest in them like Caroline had, and more of a habit at that point. Sure, they were strangely vivid and featured people I had never seen before, but from what my Aunt, Mom, and Caroline told me about their dreams, mine weren’t all that strange. 

Then I had a dream about her for the first time. I never saw her face, just an arm. The dream was my longest one ever at the time, a total of seven seconds total. I felt covers pulled around me, and my eyes were shut, so at first I figured I had really woken up, but then I felt another body pressed against my back. I slowly opened my eyes, and looked down at my waist to see a very feminine looking arm wrapped around me. At first, I wanted to scream. But there was something so.... Calming, about the whole thing. I layed there for a few seconds, before the dream ended and I woke up. I sat up slowly in bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Then, I reached over and wrote it down in the Dream Journal. 

I never suspected anything strange about my dreams until I was ten-years-old. That was when my mom sat me down in the living room, and we had a talk. “Sandra, your father wasn’t a muggle.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “But you always said…”

“I know what I said, honey.” She said, taking my hand in hers. “But your father wasn’t a muggle, and he wasn’t a wizard either.”

I tilted my head, “But what else is there?”

She leaned in close and spoke in a hushed tone, “There are gods, Sandra.”

I took a deep breath in, and exhaled. I gave my mother the most skeptical look a child could ever have, “Dad, was a god. Mom…” I sighed, “Mom you know how crazy that sounds, right?”

“Honey, I know. When he first told me I… I was skeptical too. But after I saw what he could do…” She smiled fondly as she trailed off. She sighed after a moment, then started speaking again. “When I was in school, I had a bad run-in with a rogue wizard. Over the years, my legs started getting worse and worse. There was no magic or Muggle medicine that could fix me.” I saw a twinkle in her eye as she grinned, “Atleast, that’s what I believed. Until I met your father.”

I scrunched my eyebrows again, “And he…?”

She stood up from the couch and spun around with a smile, “He healed me.” she kneeled down next to me, “And we fell in love. He told me all about his family, how the world ran…. The only thing he never told me was his real name. I knew him as Adam. but as soon as I learned the truth he admitted it wasn’t his real name.”

While she explained everything, I sat there wondering if my mother had gone off her rocker. Maybe she had finally lost it? I was told all my life that my father was a Muggle man who left as soon as my mother fell pregnant. I was a Half-Blood, half witch half Muggle. “What…” I finally spoke, “If Dad is a god, and you’re a witch… what does that make me?” I looked up from my lap to stare my mother in the eyes. 

She smiled softly, “You’re a Demigod. In the world your father came from, with all of the old Greek gods, you’re even called a Half-Blood. You remember the old stories, right? About Hecate giving us all a piece of her magic?” I nodded, “It’s all true, Sandra.”

I was silent for a few moments, taking time to wrap my head around all of this, “Why…. Why tell me this now?” I tensed my jaw, gazing into her eyes intently. “Why after ten years, would you tell me now?”

She smiled softly, like she knew so much more than me. I’m not sure what emotions I was feeling in that moment, but I know a small part of me was angry. Angry she hadn’t told me anything (if any of this was true at all. That was still up for debate.) and confused as to why she would tell me after so many years. “Because,” she started. “It’s what your father wanted.” 

My eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

“It’s dangerous for you to know, I… I don’t know all the details but something about your aura, your… your scent? It’s stronger when you know. The… The things. They find you easier when you know.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket, “Your father made me write everything down. He said that I would be more resistant to the… mist? Yes, the mist because I’m a Witch, but he said there might be holes in my memories after ten years, and so we sat down and wrote everything on paper so that I could fill in the gaps.” She unfolded the paper, “There is a place he told me about. In America. New York, I believe. Where kids like you,” She clasped my hands, “Where you can learn to defend yourself. Your father told me to start sending you when you were ten, and give you a headstart. From age twelve to twenty you’re at your most vulnerable. Your… Your scent is the strongest. There, they can tell you all about it, all the things I can’t tell you? They can. They can show you how to survive.”

“What is this place?” I asked, suddenly curious. There were other kids like me? I had to meet them.

She smiled, “It’s a Summer camp. Camp Half-Blood. The kids who have nowhere else to go, or are just too powerful to live outside stay year round, but I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. I’ve sent owls to the director, he knows you’re coming. All you have to do is show up at the beginning of the summer. I can aparate you there, I know where it is. Your father and I found the coordinates before he left, they’re right here.” she pointed a finger at the paper.

I took a deep breath in, and released a shaky one. All of this was so… sudden. This morning, I was a regular little kid who happened to have a Witch for a mother. I was going to go to school and learn how to do magic properly like my mom, maybe become a teacher at Hogwarts, and that would be it. Now… I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my life. “Okay. I’ll go.” 

By the time summer rolled around, I felt I was ready. I grabbed my backpack, met my mom, Aunt, and Caroline in the living room (My Aunt had apparently known all along. Caroline was filled in just after I was.) and then my mother apparated us to Long Island, New York in Northern America. Apparition hurt at first, and made me feel like I was suffocating, but eventually we arrived at our destination unharmed, and I let my guard down. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I feel like what I was met with wasn’t exactly it. We arrived at the bottom of a hill with a large tree on the top. About ten feet away from where we had appeared, was a slightly startled looking Centaur with a white coat. “Marissa Williams?” he asked, and my mother nodded. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of him as he approached, but I kept my confidence. “Ah, so you must be Sandra.” the Centaur smiled, “I’m Chiron. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He took me into the camp, and I waved my mother goodbye for what was to be the last time for three months. Before I crossed, everything past the border was like a blur. But, as soon as I was on the other side of the hill, I could see everything. Twelve cabins perfectly assembled around a courtyard, strawberry fields in the distance, and a large house off to the side. I could also see an archery course, an open area with 12 tables and benches (I assumed it was a dining area), a big lake, and behind it all, covering the land as far as the eye could see, was a forest. Chiron led me towards the large, homey looking house off to the side, “This,” he told me, “Is The Big House.” Oh. I almost laughed at that, but contained it while letting out nothing more than a smile. There was a porch that wrapped all the way around the Big House with a rocking chair in the front. Sitting in the chair, reading a book I couldn’t see the title of, was a blonde girl about my age.“Annabeth!” Chiron called out, and the girl looked up. I nearly gasped, but contained myself for the sake of not looking like an idiot. It was her. The girl I saw in my dreams. The one that stood behind me in the mirror, and laughed with me at the campfire. As she walked closer, I kept myself as composed as possible.

“Good morning, Chiron. Who’s this?” She asked gesturing to me, and it took an immense amount of strength to compose myself once again. Her voice nearly perfectly matched the girl from my dream as well.

“This,” Chiron replied, “Is Sandra Williams. She’s a new camper, from London. Ten-years-old, just like you.”

Her eyes widened, “London? What’s it like? How did you get here, I--”

Chiron laughed heartily, “You’ll have all the time in the world to ask her as many questions as you’d like, while you give her a tour of the camp.” He glanced at the two of us, “Is that alright?”

Annabeth’s eyes lit up, “Yes!” and I nodded. Soon, we were walking down towards the strawberry fields, along the edge of the forest, and around the camp in no particular pattern. As we walked, Annabeth spoke about the camp, about how the cabins worked, and even about the schedules of the camp. In turn, I spoke about what it was like growing up in London (She was fascinated by the city’s historic architecture, especially the pieces modeled after and created by ancient Greece and Rome). We became friends very quickly, and any nerves I may have had about the whole experience melted away. We finished our tour at the lake, our legs hanging off the edge of the dock with our feet dipped in the cool water. My eyes widened as I watched the Naiads in the lake, and Annabeth smiled at me as she pointed out the tree nymphs and satyrs at the edge of the forest. They looked nothing like any creatures I had ever seen in the magic world, and any suspicions I had of the whole Greek Mythology thing melted away. 

“What were you reading earlier?” I asked her, suddenly. “You had a book while you were on The Big House porch.”

She nodded, “It was a book about Ancient Greek architecture that someone left in The Big House. Chiron figured I might get a kick out of it.” she smiled, “He was right.”

I laughed lightly “I’ve never seen a book about architecture look so bland. Aren’t they normally covered in pictures?”

She nodded, “Normally you would be right. Except, this book has been around for a long time. It’s still in the original Ancient Greek.”

My eyes widened, “You can read that?”

“Yes, and with a few lessons you should be able to as well,” Annabeth said nodding.

I shook my head, “Oh no, I could never.”

She sighed, “It’s hardwired into your head. Let me guess, you’ve got Dyslexia and ADHD?”

“U-Um, maybe?” I stuttered, “My school counselor always said I did, but my mom wouldn’t medicate me, or even get me tested to find out.”

“She knew about your heritage, right?” I nodded in confirmation, and Annabeth hummed, “Yeah, it was smart of her not to medicate you. Keeps you sharp. Your ADHD is a result of your combat instincts. You can’t sit still in a classroom because your body is telling you to always be ready for a fight. Your Dyslexia is because your brain is hardwired for Ancient Greek. Words just seem to flow off the page, right?”

I nodded, and we sat in silence for a moment. Then, I asked, “So who’s your godly parent?”

The blonde perked up, “Oh! My mom is Athena, goddess of Wisdom.”  
I grinned, “So screw the dumb blonde stereotype, huh?”

She snorted in return, “Oh heck yes.”


	2. Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Aria Price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): Mentions of "Divorce", Foul Language/Cursing

I didn't want to be a Witch. Well, more like I figured I was in the clear. If you're reading this because you think you might be one as well, close this tab. Now. Before you get yourself killed. Being a part of both worlds is far from glamorous. It's scary. Most of the time, either side of the “chasm” will destroy you. If you're a normal child about to read this for a normal child reason, awesome. By all means, keep reading. But if you start to feel like there's something stirring inside you? Something… Magical? Stop reading. Now. You might be a child of both worlds, like me. Once you figure that out, there’s no turning back, and trust me. You’ll wish you had turned back.

My mom is a Demigod (Daughter of Mars, to be exact). My dad is a Wizard. Mom lives in a hidden city called New Rome, nestled inside of San Francisco, California. Dad lives in London, England. Mom was a very active monster-slayer in her time with Camp Jupiter and made a lot of enemies, so she can’t leave New Rome. Dad can’t go inside New Rome, because he’s a completely ordinary mortal (Besides the fact that he’s a wizard). They love each other, but they haven’t met face-to-face in years. It's a real Shakespearean-level romantic tragedy. They’re the Romeo and Juliet of magical worlds. 

I grew up in New Rome with my mom, occasionally travelling to London to visit my dad. Though, he was more a friend or an Uncle I saw on occasion than a father. My older sister, Adria, would visit with me too, but when she got accepted to Hogwarts she started spending more time with our dad than I was. It was fine, though. I didn’t mind. She was building her life as a witch, soon I would train with Lupa and build my life as a legionnaire. 

That is until we got the letter. It arrived at our house in New Rome just after Adria did, in the clutches of a fluffy light grey owl. It was from my father and disclosed two papers. One, in the loopy letters my mother could recognize anywhere as my father’s. The other was all official-looking, with a logo I had become all too accustomed to in the time that Adria was attending Hogwarts sitting right up top, front and center. 

_ Dear Ms. Price, _

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl (or email, if you prefer) no later than July 31st. _

_ Yours Sincerely,  _

_ Minerva McGonagall  _

_ Head Mistress _

_ mmcgonagall@hogwartsschool.com _

Beneath that was a list of books, pet restrictions, etc. “Holy shit,” Adria said after we all finished reading the letter. “What’s dad saying?”

  
  


My mother skimmed the letter he wrote and looked up at us. “Your father says it arrived shortly after Adria left. He’s offered to take you to Diagon Alley-- hmph, not like I’d be taking you. Adria, you know how to send a letter back, correct?” she asked, turning to my sister.

“Yeah, of course.”

I still couldn’t believe it. All this was happening so fast, I couldn’t take it all in. I had to go to school in London? With my sister? And all those Witches and Wizards? Wait-- “I can do magic.” I muttered so quietly the only one who heard it was myself. It’s not that I had never considered the idea, it was just that I figured there would have been some sort of sign by now? When Adria was eight she made a cup fly across the room because she wasn’t allowed to have a second glass of chocolate milk with her breakfast (She was so shocked, she stopped crying and got over the whole thing fairly quickly in turn of writing to tell our dad). Suddenly I looked up, “Wait, mom, what about my training with Lupa?”

My mother, who had been writing a letter to my father, looked up at me and scrunched the corner of her mouth as if thinking it over. “Well, you could wait a few years more to join the legion, can’t you?” 

I shook my head, “Mom that messes with the schedule! Besides, all the new legionnaires are eleven or twelve years old, if I wait then I’ll be strange!”

“Quit being such a brat, at least you’ll get in eventually.” Adria shot at me. We had always disagreed about what we wanted to do with our lives, but that was ridiculous. 

“Adria, pipe down.” my mother said sternly, before looking at me, “I will think it over, and discuss it with the praetors, but you must prepare yourself for the worst.” and with that, the conversation was over. While my dad might have been a friend or an uncle, my mom was definitely a mom. She was well respected in the legion, New Rome, and (when she needed to be) our household. 

It was nearly a week before I heard anything about the subject again. I was eating breakfast, when my mom came into the room and sat down across from me, “I’ve thought it over, and made a decision.”

My eyes widened, and I swallowed a spoonful of cereal, “Oh? What did you decide?”

She sighed, “If you so wish, then you will train with Lupa this summer.” my eyes widened, but she continued, “However, if you feel you aren’t ready to do it so soon, you can tell me now, and we can sort something out for next summer.”

“I’m ready.” I said, without hesitation, “When am I leaving?”

My mother looked into my eyes as if she could see through into my soul. “Tonight.” And so I did.

Training with Lupa wasn’t a walk in the park. More like a marathon where I was occasionally asked to walk on water. It was hard, gruelling work, but I pushed through. I learned to hold a sword, to trust my own instincts, and to respect the nature around me and what it could give. I excelled in Lupa’s teaching of the art of war, and she said she had no lesser expectations for a granddaughter of Mars. People didn’t often call me that as a child growing up in New Rome, but I liked it. When I finally returned home, I was assigned the 3rd cohort for my standing with my mother’s recommendation. I was  _ going places _ . 

But, nevertheless, according to my mom and dad, I still needed to attend Hogwarts. Whether I wanted to, or not. 


End file.
